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“Don Draper fucked around.”
“Yes, but discreetly. And he still managed to pull in the big contracts with a pretty wife in tow.”
I visualized myself stylishly fucking around—whatever that meant. Maybe wearing a tailored suit while going down on a girl in Dior. I saw Ivy in that little fantasy, and my slacks tightened. That girl had me in the thrall of constant arousal.
“I’ll make sure to get measured up for Italian suits then.” I chuckled.
I was about to walk out when she pointed at the files. “Don’t forget those.” Her mouth tugged at one side—the warmest she’d been so far. “Contact each client, wheel out your inner smooth talker, and charm the pants off them. Especially if they’re women.”
“You want me to seduce them?”
She shrugged. “Do what’s necessary.”
“That seems a little inappropriate.”
She huffed. “Oh, and women never use their charms to win favors? What planet are you on, Chase? It’s dog-eat-dog out here on Madison Ave.” She faced me square on. “You might need to get out of the dark and into the cold light of day and get a whiff of how the real world operates.”
Thanks for the patronizing pep talk.
I flicked her a sunny smile and walked back to my office, carrying a stack of files.
